The cook, the chef and the midwife
by Sylvie Orp
Summary: Epilogue to 'No Stone'. Doyle's news turns June's life upside-down. In two chapters
1. Chapter 1

Doyle managed to avoid a pan of boiling pasta hurled at his head by the very recently bereaved June Cook. He had just broken the news to her that her husband had died on active service. June had blamed him because it was he who had persuaded her husband that life was greener on the other side. That Cookie hadn't taken much persuading and had jumped at the chance was not something to point out to a very distressed June at the moment. She had her back to him and was gagging at the sink - trying to cry, vomit and scream at the same time. Doyle stood there, impotent. Nothing he could say would make bad things better. Doyle was very aware that June was in the final stages of her second pregnancy and such a shock that he had given her could lead to an early labour. Feeling that there was nothing he could do - or anything that June would allow him to do - he trailed next door, shutting the dog in the back garden. His legs and his heart felt like lead. He didn't know if Mary was at home, but he knocked all the same. After not too long she answered the door. Like June, Mary was glad to see him - at first. He muscled in silently. She knew now that there was something very wrong. Ray Doyle was a cheery soul most of the time and here he was, unannounced, and very withdrawn.

"I've just been to see June," he said dully. Mary waited. "Cookie's dead." There, the words he couldn't bring himself to say to June, he'd now blurted out. It made it all seem too real now it was out in the open. He couldn't get his voice or breathing under control.

Mary gasped and her hands flew to her face. "Oh, my God," she breathed through her fingers.

Doyle guided her to the lounge and sat her down. He felt he needed to sit down himself. A whisky would go down very well just now.

"He, he was shot," Doyle stumbled. "June, well June's in a state."

Despite her shock, Mary knew what was required of her. "I'll go and see how she is. Are you coming?"

Doyle knew that he was the last person on God's earth that June would want to see at that moment. Not knowing how to put it into words, and not wanting to go into detail, Doyle just hung his head and left. The short journey to his car seemed endless. He got in blindly, leaning on the steering wheel, his arms over his head. He let the shock work its way through his body. _Bloody fine agent you are,_ Doyle yelled in his head, _first you get Cookie shot, then you go to pieces when you tell his missus and her mate._ Doyle shook his head at his own incompetence.

Mary got her coat on quickly and hurried out of the door. She paused on the pavement, seeing Doyle hunched over the steering wheel. She wanted nothing more than to slide into the passenger seat and comfort him. But June needed more urgent attention. God knows what she was going to say to her neighbour. She stoically turned into the Cook's garden and heard the dog barking. She took a deep breath and braced her shoulders.

Sometime later, Doyle stirred himself. He needed to report to HQ. Cowley wouldn't allow him the entire afternoon off to break the news to Mrs Cook. He glanced guiltily at the house. He the saw Mary approaching, supporting June. The pair staggered towards the front gate. Doyle automatically got out of the car to help.

"I think she's gone into labour," Mary said anxiously.

Doyle opened the back of the car, placing his jacket on the back seat. June would have preferred to get a bus - a donkey - any means of transport to the hospital except the one on offer. But women in labour can't be choosy who they get to drive them to the hospital. Mary and Ray eased June into the back seat.

"I'll get Danny."

For a moment Doyle looked bewildered, then he remembered who Danny was - June's first-born. He was at junior school. Someone would have to pick him up, and someone would have to break the news.

"I'll tell him," Doyle offered stoically.

"No," Mary countered, "I'll tell him, and he can stay with us. You need to take June to the hospital quick."

It wasn't a task he relished, but June's family lived away and hadn't expected a birth for at least a few weeks, and Cookie's people would have enough on their plate once they heard the news of their son's demise. Doyle could see Mary's point, but didn't want to be responsible for getting June to the hospital - having let her husband down so badly - but there wasn't time to wait for an ambulance.

"All right but let me know if there's anything I can do."

Before Doyle could find a scrap of paper to write his phone number on, June interrupted. "There's nothing you can do. Haven't you done enough?" she snarled. It was going to be a very unpleasant journey.

Doyle left Mary to collect Danny and silently slid behind the driving wheel and eased the car out into the traffic. On the journey he was aware of deep breathing and gasps behind his left ear. He hoped fervently that she and the baby could hold on. The traffic got heavier as they neared the hospital. Doyle took some back roads, but other drivers had the same knowledge as Doyle and the 'rat runs' soon clogged. June's panting was taking on a more urgent edge. Doyle made a decision and turned into a nearby woodyard. It seemed empty and derelict. He turned the car round to face back into the traffic and brought the car to a stop. He got out and opened the rear door. Kneeling down to eye level he asked June how long she was between contractions.

"I don't know!" She looked very frightened and lost.

Doyle persuaded her to lay back on his coat on the back seat and asked permission to feel the baby.

"You a doctor, too?"

"I've delivered a couple of babies, June," Doyle said softly, trying to sooth her anger.

June said nothing but allowed him to help. As he took his hands away, she almost doubled up as a major contraction hit her. Doyle supported her with her breathing. On the slow ride to this place, he had a fear and a feeling that the baby was not going to wait till they reached a safe haven.

"We're going to have to do this together, June." He looked into her eyes. Neither of them wanted this, but they knew there was no alternative. She nodded reluctantly and allowed Doyle to carry on.

"Ok," he announced, "baby is on its way. Get all that anger out, June, and push when I say."

"No, Ray. I won't have her born to anger. I'll do this for Cookie."

"Alright, June. That's good. Let's do some panting before the next wave. Ok?"

June did as she was told and, with the second push, Doyle announced that he could see its head.

"Ok, June. Hold it there. The cord's wrapped round its neck. Just give me a minute."

Doyle delicately unwound the cord and directed June to push again. Within moments, the child made its noisy entrance into the world. Despite their hostility, they grinned as the tiny infant was placed on its mother's breast.

"It's a girl, June. A healthy little girl!"

"Cookie said it would be."

June burst into tears as she held her tiny daughter. Doyle used his Swiss army knife to cut the cord and unpicked a little of his cardigan for sutures. He had nothing to clean mother and child with, but wrapped the baby in the remains of his jumper.

"I'll try to get us back on the road. The traffic may have eased. No point in calling an ambulance. It'll get stuck in the same tailback."

June just nodded, her attention more on her child. Doyle looked down on them, huddled on the back seat. He wished he could find words to reach her. As emotions threatened to overwhelm him, he turned and got in the driver seat, fingering the gold chain which he had dragged from Cookie's body so many hours ealier. He dragged a sleeve over his eyes, took a deep breath and braced his shoulders. He'd get June safely to the hospital if it was the last thing he did. As he eased back into the traffic, he reached for the radio.

"4.5, 4.5. We've just had a little girl!"

"Are you on the happy pills again, Ray?" queried Control.

Doyle grinned idiotically and let Control make of the joyous announcement what they would.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was three days before Doyle found the time and the courage to see June. He'd learned from Mary that she was still in hospital but due out in a few days' time. He went round to the hospital with flowers, some baby knitwear which Betty had quickly knitted for him, and a heavy feeling in his heart.

The maternity ward was one of the few wards that Doyle was unfamiliar with as a copper, and certainly as an agent. However he found it quickly and peered into the long ward which was alive with chatter of new dads and crying babies. He awkwardly made his way down the line until he saw June. She was with her parents who were cradling the little girl. Doyle felt out of place as three pairs of hostile eyes were turned in his direction. He wanted nothing more than to dump his gifts and get out of there.

"Can you give us a moment?" June said to her parents, who were already beginning to stand and gather their belongings, handing back the sleeping infant to its mother.

"We'll be back soon, love," said Mrs Daniels, avoiding Doyle's eye, and kissing her daughter's cheek.

After that hurried departure Doyle stood awkwardly gazing at the bedspread. The silence stretched.

"How are you and your little girl? I stopped by and saw Mary and Danny and the dog." Doyle couldn't find anything else to say, and June wasn't helping him.

After an eternity, Doyle was aware from the corner of his eye that June was offering him the baby to hold. Doyle forced himself to look into June's eyes. He took the tot from her and cradled it very gently in his arms. June nodded to the chair and he perched, very uncomfortably, on the edge.

"The hospital and my parents, and Cookie's, and Uncle Tom Cobbly are helping no end with Danny and Catherine. Cookie wanted her to be called Catherine."

Doyle stroked the sleeping baby's cheek. He had never seen a more beautiful child. He wished – he wished…

"So it's given me a lot of time think. And I reckon I'm done with hating you, Ray. But I'll never be done in aching for Cookie. I didn't want to tell you, but I think I should. When you suggested to him that George Cowley was turning his eye towards him, I warned him off, but he said to it give it a trial run and Major Cowley said he could go back to the Fraud Squad if he felt that CI5 wasn't for him. So we agreed that compromise. And you know, Ray, he was never fitter than when he was in CI5, nor ever happier. I wanted him to hate being an agent, but he seemed to find his calling and he loved it. I know you pointed him in CI5's direction, Ray, but it was Cookie's decision in the end. Not mine, not yours, but his. The money was better, of course, but that wasn't it. He loved doing what he did. He said it stretched him."

Unconsciously Doyle slipped his hand into June's. They looked for a long time into each other's misty eyes. Then Doyle remembered the burden in his pocket. He handed Catherine gently back to its mother. The baby mewled at being passed around. His hand grasped the slight object and he held a fist out to June. Puzzled, she held out her palm and the gold chain fluttered between them.

"I, I took it from Cookie. I've had the clasp replaced."

He stood up as June leaned forward and he fastened her husband's chain around her neck. She leaned back on the pillows and fondled the pendant, lost in her memories.

Doyle softly broke into her thoughts. "You can't know how sorry I am, June. I didn't want this –"

June interrupted him, squeezing his hand. "Of course you didn't, you daft sod. You and he were great mates. I know that if there was anything you could have done you would have. From what Major Cowley told me, you weren't even there!"

Doyle looked surprised, then realised that of course the Cow would have visited June; he wouldn't have left it all to Doyle.

"Tell me what I can do. Anything. Name it."

"I know the parents aren't going to understand, but I'd like you to be Catherine's godfather."

Doyle looked horrified. It was a huge responsibility. He was going to tell her that he wasn't up to it; that she needed someone more mature and responsible. But he had just told her that he would do anything for her. "If you're sure, June. If that's what you want." He felt that she was testing him. "Who else?"

"Cookie's mum. Danny isn't old enough to be a godparent, but of course he'll be there."

"When's the christening?"

"I haven't sorted that out yet, but I'll let you know."

The silence that stretched before them seemed less tense, less hostile. They would work through this. June could forgive him more than he could forgive himself, and she would certainly never get over husband's death, but with the support network that she had around her, and her children nestled close to her, life would be bearable.


End file.
